


University

by wincolia



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincolia/pseuds/wincolia
Summary: Olive x Leona university drabble that I may or may not finish.





	

__

**< LeonaEVolkova>** _has logged on._

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _Good morning sunshine_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>: ** _its 11 am._

 

**< MevBarlow>:** _I’m just trying to be nice_

 

 **< LeonaEVolkova>**: _-________-_

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _I saw your prof at BB’s party last night. Probably won’t be getting heavy hw_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>:** _actually felt_ _like learning today fml lmao._

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _You ungrateful child. That’s what you get with an English professor_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>:** _that’s irrelevant. and stop using this chat for personal use, Meverly._

 

 **< MevBarlow>:** _Dw. If I had your TA I think the completely useless course would be worth it_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>: ** _???_

 

_***_

 

When Leona walks into her English literature class, the TA is sitting on a stool next to the professor’s desk eating a jumbo-sized pretzel. The two thoughts that go through her sleep-ridden head are: _Holy fuck, I should have taken creative writing instead_ and _Where the hell did she come from?_ The first one isn’t related to the slouchy TA who seemed to have devoured the entire pretzel in the course of the thirty seconds Leona stood in the doorway—Leona has that same exact thought almost every day because creative writing would have been much cooler and better and just all around more fit for Leona and _screw you Mev, I can get places with a writing degree. Stop rolling your eyes like that._

The second thought, however, is definitely relevant to ask in her own mind because never in Leona’s life has she seen such a person. A person that more resembles a ghost than a living being even though ghosts don’t usually sit in worn stools with a crummy laptop tilting on their lap and clicking frenetically at whatever was popping up on the screen and yelling out words in...French? Sure, Leona guesses, even though the computer could be spewing out simple English phrases and her brain would still process it as backwards Mandarin in the moment.

No one had arrived yet, and the professor himself had a notorious track record for leaving his class guideless to nurse a hangover that Leona could only assume was caused by a near-fatal mix of desomorphine and jungle juice, judging by his catatonic stupor every time he managed to actually attend the class. Leona delved further into the room to find her seat quietly. The girl barely acknowledged her in favor of curling further on the stool as if to hide herself.

When students began to trickle in, the girl finally jerked her head up as if broken from a hypnosis spell. Her bangs were pushed from her tired eyes and _wow, holy shit,_ how could a person’s eyes be _that_ light of a blue? It was more of a clouded color, but the fierceness of the shade contrasted with the large pupils still jarred Leona from her seat in one of the lower rows and caused her stomach to lurch.

Everything about her was pale—her hair, her skin, her shirt (although Leona did appreciate the dark jeans she was wearing that clung to her thighs very nicely), her eyes, and even the aura around the girl seemed passive and light.

One of the guys Leona knew from her Tuesday art group kneed the side of her chair and she turned away to glare at him. Iwan grimaced as he clumsily took the seat besides hers and began to unload his backpack.

After he pulled out a thermos (“Red Bull and Gatorade combo, dude. Can’t go wrong with that.” “You’re going to die.”) and his notes, Iwan nodded towards the TA that had abandoned her laptop in favor of arranging the papers on the professor’s desk and then scattering them again in an unintelligible pattern.

“What’s up with her?” he asked.

Leona shrugged. “No clue.” She leaned back in her seat before drawing out a, “Teacher’s assistant? She looks weird, though.” It was the fact that the girl didn’t even look up at the class and looked content with shifting through the stray papers left on the professor’s desk instead of beginning the session that seemed off to Leona. It was more endearing, though, the way she looked calm and sleepy amongst the essays she was sliding up and down the desk.

“She was in my older sister’s Japanese history class. She argued with the professor all the time—my sister thought it was funny.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ah, I don’t remember. It was cute, though.” Iwan winked and Leona bristled.

That was when the professor showed up, shuffling in and collapsing against his desk. The TA disregarded him and instead put the papers back into a pile and made her way back to the stool where her laptop rested.

The lesson began but all Leona focused on was the girl that involved herself very little and instead chose to observe the class. Their eyes met once and the girl kept the contact fiercely until Leona finally broke it, both unnerved and intrigued.

 

~

 

When the lesson was finished, Leona lingered by her seat before choosing to go out the door closer to the stool next to the professor’s desk. For no particular reason.

The girl didn’t seem to have brought many things with her to the class and seemed to just be lounging around the empty room. Leona approached her without trying to be completely obvious that the door was not her destination. The girl looked up only when the tips of Leona’s sneakers touched the edge of the professor’s desk.

“Hullo,” Leona said. She winced at the slurred lilt of her accent.

“Who are you?” The girl responded. The abrupt words contradicted her voice; a soft yet slightly nasally pitch that remained completely monotone despite the question.

“Uh, I take this class.” Jesus Christ, bury her now.

“Oh. I just assumed you snuck in. Since, y’know, everyone must be completely smitten with the...evolution of literary elements and how they influence their genres,” the girl answered, her eyes sweeping over the board where the class topic was written.

Leona chuckled, though it sounded more like a huff and her stomach coiled when the girl smiled as well.

“Are you the TA?”

“Yes. You also didn’t really answer my question.”

Leona’s face grew hot. “I don’t know how to answer that, really.”

“Okay.”

There was a long silence.

“Well! I...have to leave. Get some...coffee. Ha.” Leona exclaimed before she could embarrass herself more.

“Okay.”

Before walking out of the door completely, Leona turned towards the girl again. “Are you assisting the entire semester?”  
The girl nodded, the two loose twintails in her hair bouncing lightly against her chest.

Leona waited until the door closed behind her to scrub her hands across her face and rue the day she was ever allowed the free will to talk to pretty girls.

 

~

 

 **< Mev** **Barlow >:** _She barely said anything to you, you fucking weirdo lmao_

 

 **< LeonaEVolkova>:** _a_ _lright,_ _i_ _get it._ _f_ _uck me for taking life by the horns or whatever the saying is._ _i_ _’ll never talk to anyone remotely attractive ever again._

 

 **< MevBarlow>:** _For the sake of your self esteem, that seems like a good_ _idea_

 

**< PiotrEVolkova>** _has_ _logged on._

 

**< PiotrEVolkova>:** _Can u guys stop using the study group chat to talk abt leonas love life?_

 

**< MevBarlow>:** _If clumsily interrogating a TA counts as_ _some type of_ _love life, I really don’t want to be loved_

 

_**<** _ **LeonaEVolkova** _**> :** _ _you’re just mad bc your forensic chem ta looks like_ _водяно́й._

 

**< MevBarlow> ** _removed_ **< LeonaEVolkova>** _from the chat._

 

**< MevBarlow>:** _Get your weird_ _ass_ _Russian folk tales out of here_

 

**< PiotrEVolkova>:** _…_

 

 **< PiotrEVolkova>:** _D_ _o_ _u k_ _no what the menu is in the cafe on_ _we_ _dnesday?_

 

_~_

 

Leona actually needed to be in that group to study, but who cares? Because just when she put her phone back in her pocket after being kicked out of the chat room, Leona spotted an almost all white figure hunched over one of the tables in the coffee shop by the university.

How the girl got there before Leona, she didn’t know, but she knew she couldn’t pass up an opportunity to right her wrongs in the way of failed conversation that occurred earlier that day.

“It’s supposed to rain soon,” Leona greeted, because hey, she’s just looking out for a fellow human being.

The girl looked up at the sky, her neck bent at an angle that seemed almost painful, as if she were trying to examine each individual cloud to test Leona’s statement.

“Hm, looks like it. Nimbostratus, I think.” She looked back up at Leona, who was still standing there with fake nonchalance. “But I think I’ll take my chances staying out here. I like the air.”

The air did smell good—it was crisp with the approaching cold, but not yet breezy enough to be disdained. And the heavy scent of coffee beans and cinnamon buns emanated from the cafe in front of them. Leona sniffed and smiled just to entertain the girl. The smile she got in return was worth it.

“Well, uh, cloud girl, as cool as it is chilling out here with you, there’s some zefir calling my name.” The weather jokes may have been a bit overkill, but the girl laughed anyway and nodded.

“You can’t ignore the call of zefir, I know.”

“You like it?”

The girl nodded. “Although the ones in France are very different, I enjoy the ones here as well. Especially the different flavors.”

“I’ll buy you one,” Leona almost yells. At least the girl doesn’t look startled, unlike the people at the tables around them.

“Ah, okay.”

Leona almost runs into the cafe doors, her face hot as she feels the girls eyes on her.

When she comes back outside, the girl is still there. Score. What low did Leona reach that having a person show common decency proved she wasn’t completely appalling as a potential girlfriend?

“Here.” Leona practically shoves the dessert into the girl’s thin hands.

The girl takes a bite before saying anything and Leona now knows what competing on a top skill cooking show must be like because watching her slowly bite the pastry was _excruciating._

“Nice. Thanks,” the girl mumbles around the marshmallow in her mouth.

“No problem.” Leona actually sits down then, directly across from the girl.

Leona leaned forward. “So, since I bought you food, you gotta tell me your name.”

“Is that a new rule?”

“A rule of common curtsey, yeah.”

“Hm, okay. Well, I’m Olive.”

Iwan was right, the name _was_ cute.

“I’m Leona.”

“Okay. Hi Leona.”

“Hullo, Olive.”

Olive bit into the pastry again while Leona stared at her non-creepily.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“As long as it’s not about sharing this zefir.”  
Leona chuckled. “No. What’s your major?”

Olive paused. “I graduated.”

Leona’s eyes widened. Olive didn’t look very old at all. She could have passed as a high school student, if Leona was being completely honest, but that made her feel a bit predatory and she didn’t know if Olive would appreciate her opinion very much either.

But she _was_ a TA, so maybe Leona was just stupidly unobservant.

“But,” Olive said, “I majored in biochemistry. Minored in herbalism.”

“Really?” Leona asked. “Biochemistry?” Leona thinks she may already be in love.

“I like plants,” Olive explained.

“Me too.”

“I have a lot of plants at my house. Do you want to see them?”

Leona’s knee collided with the bottom of the table. Olive’s eyes fleetingly glanced at it, but left the question hanging in the air.

“Sure, yeah, I mean I don’t want to be creepy or anything. I just want to see your pants—plants, I mean. Uh.”

Olive huffs out a laugh and nods. “Alright.”

“Do you want my number?”

“Oh. I thought I would just send you my address via carrier pigeon.”

“You’re very old fashioned, Olive.” Leona liked the way her name sounded on her tongue.

“Yes.”

“Yes as in…?”

“As in,” Olive leans across the table so that Leona could see small flecks of green in Olive’s eyes, “I want your number.”

It starts to rain and Olive smiles once more at her before heading the opposite way, Leona’s number written on her hand.

 

~

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _If “I want to see your pants—I mean your plants” is not in your wedding vows, don’t bother inviting me_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>: ** _i regret telling you anything._

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _You’re so smitten it’s cute lol_

 

 **< LeonaEVolkova>:** _...i bought her zefir today._

 

**< MevBarlow>:** _Ahhhhhhh_

 

 **< MevBarlow>: **_Okay Leo, I have to hand it to you, that’s v cute. Second time’s the charm,_ _right?_

 

 **< LeonaEVolkova>:** _second times the awkward weather talk and accidental innuendo about plants._

 

 **< MevBarlow>:** _You’re on your way_

 

 **< PiotrEVolkova>:** _I’m going to kick both of u out >:(_

 

**< MevBarlow>: ** _Aw_

 

**< LeonaEVolkova>: ** _aw._

 

~

 

Leona forgot how much taller she was than everyone else sometimes. Especially Olive, who’s munchkin-like stature was almost painfully endearing. She had to go on the tips of her toes and then stretch as much as she could just to reach Leona’s collarbone.

Which she did in order to headbutt Leona’s upper chest when she met her outside of her apartment.


End file.
